There Is Love In The Hours Poem by Peter S. Quinn

There is love in the hours,
A touch from a moment ago,
Like a summer full of flowers;
A heart is born to grow,
Each love is like a glow.

We need a dream to come,
To the ways to carry for,
And be like morn blossom;
When we are not too sure,
If there is peace or war.

Every day is flowing on,
And opening times to be,
For moments all are done;
With minutes about dreamily,
So we may true love see.

With a hope in what is past,
We long for love so much,
The ways will never sitfast;
For our reality is nonesuch:
Hope is never out of touch.